


Tell Me A Story

by creativityandcoffee



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Feels, Fluff, M/M, i'm in love with this prompt and i feel so lucky that i got to write it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-04-08 01:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativityandcoffee/pseuds/creativityandcoffee
Summary: Quentin finds out that whenever the Monster sleeps, Eliot gains back control of his body. After his discovery, Quentin never wants to sleep again; but soon enough, his exhaustion catches up with him.





	Tell Me A Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rizcriz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizcriz/gifts).



> This story is a prompt-fill for an amazing prompt by rizcriz: 
> 
> The reason Quentin’s so gentle with the Monster is because whenever it goes to sleep, Eliot comes back. One night, Quentin’s trying to stay awake but he hasn’t slept in days, he drifts to sleep before Eliot arrives. He wakes up to a gentle hand carding fingers through his hair. Eliot tells him to go back to sleep but Q’s like ‘but I miss you—‘ and Eliot’s all ‘there’s plenty time for that if you don’t kill yourself never sleeping. Let me keep you safe for a bit.’ And then he lulls Q to sleep with soft stories about what he thinks their grandkids grew up to be like.
> 
> I hope I did this prompt some sort of justice, and that you all enjoy!

Quentin stifles a yawn as he stumbles back into the loft. Even though the sun has only just started to set, he's exhausted. He's spent the whole day in the library, looking for clues as to how to make a body for the Monster. As much as he doesn't want to help the creature who's holding Eliot captive, he'll do anything to keep it happy. He _has_ to keep it content, because Eliot's _alive_ in there. 

Eliot's alive, and Quentin knows it because he talks to Eliot every night.

A few days ago, Eliot figured out how to gain back control of his body whenever the Monster was asleep. On that first night, when Eliot had woken Quentin up, he'd thought it was the Monster, and had shied away in alarm. But as soon as Eliot had explained—as soon as Quentin had realized it was really him—they'd held each other until dawn, all but crying in each other's arms. Now, ever since then, Quentin has been staying up to be with Eliot. He's tired all the time now, but (of course) Quentin thinks it's worth it. Besides, he was a college student once; he knows how to run on no sleep.

Still, right now, he feels _exceptionally_  fatigued...

When _was_ the last time he slept? 

Quentin sinks down onto the nearest couch, unceremoniously throwing his backpack to the floor. Everyone else must be out or asleep, because the loft is humming with an uncharacteristic silence. Quentin kicks off his shoes and curls in on himself; he'll get up in just a second—he just needs a moment to collect himself... maybe five minutes, tops, and he'll be as good as new... 

* * *

Quentin feels gentle fingers combing through his hair, their movements comforting and somehow familiar. At first, he simply savors the moment; he lies there, with his eyes still closed, and lets out a contented sigh. Finally, he opens his eyes to take in the sight before him.

Eliot is lying right beside Quentin. He's smiling softly to himself as he's running his hand through Quentin's hair. When he notices that Quentin is awake, he leans closer and presses a kiss to Q's forehead.

"Hey there, darling. Don't mind me. You should go back to sleep," Eliot says softly. He brushes the hair out of Quentin's face, letting his fingers trail along Quentin's cheeks.

Quentin blinks a few times and then slowly pushes himself up in the bed ( _his_ bed, he realizes—Eliot must have carried him here from the couch). He eventually sits up so that his back is against the headboard. Next to him, Eliot mirrors his position; then, Eliot reaches out for Quentin's hand, and Quentin lets him take it.

Quentin notices the soothing warmth that flows through him at the familiar feeling of Eliot's touch. He knows the weight of Eliot's palm in his, the sensation of Eliot's fingers running through his hair, as well as he knows anything. Nothing could ever make him forget these simple, glorious things that Eliot always gives him so freely.

"I can't believe I fell asleep, El, when this is the only time we get together..." Quentin says, his eyes cast downward. Eliot frowns when he hears the mournful and apologetic tone in Quentin's voice. 

"Q, you haven't slept in nearly a week. I love these times with you, _of course_ , but you need to rest! You can't deal with everything you're already dealing with _and_ do it on no sleep." 

"But I miss you—" Quentin starts. He falls silent, however, when Eliot presses a soft kiss to his lips. After a moment, Eliot pulls away. 

"And _I_ miss _you_. But we'll _both_ miss each other a whole lot more if you get yourself killed by refusing to sleep. So come on, Q. Let me keep you safe. Let me take care of you, just for tonight." 

For a split second, Quentin thinks about resisting; but as soon as he sees the earnestly caring look El's giving him, he relents. 

When Eliot starts to tuck him back into bed, Quentin is too overwhelmed by adoration and appreciation to even think about being embarrassed. He lets Eliot arrange the covers for him, lets Eliot guide his head to the pillow. As Eliot's fingers start to run through his hair again, he almost falls asleep right then and there. However, he has a request that he knows Eliot can't refuse... 

"El," Quentin says, his voice partially muffled by the pillow. Eliot makes a low humming noise in the back of his throat to indicate that Q should continue. "Would you tell me a story? Whenever you told stories to Teddy, he never could stay awake for long." 

Quentin's eyes are closed, but he just _knows_  that his words have made Eliot smile. Teddy was the best part of the lifetime they'd had together in Fillory; Eliot had been his father in all but blood, and they had been a _family—_ and a very happy one, at that.

"What kind of story would you like?" Eliot asks. 

Quentin ponders the question for a moment. His thoughts keep going back to Teddy, and to the day his son left home...

"Tell me about our grandkids," Quentin says. He opens his eyes to look at Eliot with a sleepy, loving gaze. "Tell me about what you think they're like—assuming Teddy had kids and all." 

Eliot lets his gaze drop, his face contemplative as he wonders how to start. Finally, when he's decided what to say, he looks back at Quentin. 

"Close your eyes. I won't start the story until you do." 

Quentin obeys, and Eliot begins.

* * *

_Teddy Coldwater-Waugh had three daughters: Rose, Violet, and Lily._

Quentin smiles at the names. Teddy had always been fond of flowers.

_Growing up, they lived with Teddy and his partner—whoever that may be—in one of the costal towns of Fillory. All three of them are fond of the water, and they've all inherited their grandfather Quentin's love of boating expeditions._

Quentin laughs a little at that; he can hear the grin in Eliot's voice as the other man continues. 

_Rose is the eldest of the three. She's always felt a great sense of responsibility, and does her best, to this day, to look out for her younger sisters. She likes reading, but her true love is for writing: ever since childhood, she's spent hours each day sitting on the docks, furiously plotting out the new stories that have come into her mind. Today, she's the most famous and well-loved author of Fillory._

The way Eliot tells stories is almost hypnotic; Quentin feels himself start to drift off towards sleep as Eliot goes on.

_When people first meet Violet, they always assume she's much younger than she is. This is because she's inherited Teddy's quiet reserve. She's always had an intelligent mind, as well as a love for the natural and the artistic. She often travels into the forests of Fillory, and paints all of the plants and animals that she sees. Her skills have earned her the position of Official Artist to the High King of Fillory._

Quentin is mere minutes away from falling asleep; however, he stays awake long enough to hear Eliot finish the tale.

_Although Lily is the youngest sister, people often assume she's much older than she is, due to her outgoing and confident personality. Unlike her artistically-inclined sisters, she is drawn to the logical and scientific. She's been making up hypotheses and involving her family in her experiments ever since she was six years old. One day, in the near future, she'll discover a portal to Earth; and maybe—just maybe—she'll come and find us._

Eliot turns his head to look at Quentin, and sees that the other man has fallen asleep. As he watches the steady rise and fall of Quentin's chest, Eliot feels perfectly content. Taking care of Q like this, and making sure he's getting his rest, always makes Eliot's heart feel light. He's never loved anyone else as much as he loves Quentin—and he knows that he never will.

For the rest of the night, Eliot sits beside Quentin, keeping watch over the other man. He gazes out of the window at the beautiful night sky, and dreams of the time when they'll finally be able to spend both their nights and their days together again. 


End file.
